


An Alley in Lestallum - Prompto Argentum/Norah Caelum

by Cosmic_Iguana



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Drunken Kissing, F/M, Love Confessions, Making Out, Romance, Rough Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:15:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24281926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cosmic_Iguana/pseuds/Cosmic_Iguana
Summary: Sleepless nights leads Norah and the other three boys of her brother's group to dip their toes into the nightlife of Lestallum. After one too many drinks, and a rather harsh argument, Prompto escorts Norah back to her room. However, when drunken words are exchanged; the Prince's gunman and the Princess find themselves unable to shake off certain...feelings that are brewing. Fears, doubts and confessions are spouted and it's all under a starry, dreamy night sky in an alleyway in the beautiful city of Lestallum.
Relationships: Prompto Argentum/Original Female Character(s), Prompto Argentum/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 19





	An Alley in Lestallum - Prompto Argentum/Norah Caelum

**Author's Note:**

> [Quick context! I am experimenting with writing these characters, and also experimenting with setting up plots and arcs and writing a very flawed character. I have been planning this character for a while and I would like to dip my toes into making her come to life on paper. So, missing context is; She is the twin sister of Noctis, she has been missing for over ten years and only when Noctis comes back from Insomnia downfall do they reunite. She's not the same person she was as a child, and Prompto and Norah met when they were children before she went missing. I am also not making Iggy and Gladio the bad guys they have very real reasons why they act like this but it's in my head so I'm not spoiling lmao. And...she has secrets, which I allude to. Thank you! And Enjoy!!]
> 
> Also, when it shifts to first person its SUPPOSED to be in italics in order to accentuate that its shifting perspective but I haven't gotten around to editing it. It was italics in the original doc I'll remedy it soon xxxxxx

Sleep evaded her that night, like sand between her fingers. No matter how hard she clenched her hand around it the will to sleep slid between the crevices. Stirring between the covers Norah twists and turns uncomfortably trying to sleep, as though her bedsheets were harsh ropes rubbing at her skin raw. When the last bit of determination burned out she released a hearty sigh and slid from her bed giving up before pacing back and forth in the darkness..

She doesn’t know if it was the sense of false peace hanging over her. The worry that something might go wrong striking her nerves, making them bubble and fizz in preparation. But preparation for what? Lestallum was a friendly town brimming with smiling faces, strangers who’d carry your bags and remark the perfect way your hair fell. There was no danger to be found and yet…

Just beyond the walls of her room were the boys, peaceful and fast asleep. They were close enough to jump to action should something befall her, and yet she still felt weary for some reason. Lestallum was a painting come to life, beautiful and picturesque, she should have felt at ease yet metallic fingers crawled after her. Long, splinter-like hands of Magitech were cold and unforgiving, longing to tear at her face and claw at her eyes. She can feel them wrap around her arms like tightening wires and she feels the urge to run ignite in her...She shook the thoughts from her head, just bad dreams. 

She focused on the sublime quiet in the air. The humming wind that fluttered through the doorway of the balcony made the curtains dance and sway like gowns at a ball. Norah had her own room that was separate to the boys, whom she listened keenly for in case she had woken them up with her fumbling. Separate tent, separate room and even suggestions for a separate vehicle...she was always separate at Ignis and Gladiolus’s insistence. They didn’t trust her. Expected given how she introduced herself, warranted seeing as they haven’t seen her in ten years. But the adamance at which they installed it, how they flinched whenever she raised a hand near Noctis...made her feel like an abuser. Made her cautious of her own actions like she had struck him down beforehand. As if they were training her to believe that she would hurt Noctis, made her feel like a walking bad luck charm. Norah saw how they whispered to each other, eyeing her carefully. They didn’t trust her, and she certainly didn’t trust them. If it wasn’t for Prompto and of course Noctis shooting them down she’d probably wouldn’t even be in Lestallum right now. Perhaps it wasn’t the city that kept her up afterall...

The balcony beckoned her, the cool breeze a welcome sensation from her sweat licked skin. Lestallum was indescribably alight in beautiful lights and like a moth to the flame she wandered to the cold railing admiring the scene. The view contradicted her restlessness, the streets coming alive under the yellow streetlights, making them appear warm and welcoming. It nearly cleared the images bumbling around in her head. Nearly. For the hymn of the soothing wind did little to calm the churning in her stomach. 

Gods how she wanted to sleep, it was hardly fair she hadn't acquired Noctis's trait of being a heavy sleeper. Her bones might not have roared in sores and aches if she had. Nevertheless her muscles still flowed with energy that screamed to be let out, like lava above cold rock. It was a never-ending battle, caught between exhaustion and alarm. Norah closes her eyes, willing herself to listen to Lestallum and let the ambience lull her to sleep. To have it blow away the heavy weather that clouds her conscience, let her sleep without the past collapsing on her...

“Can’t sleep either?” A cheery voice came forth from the silence.

Eyes shoot open and dart to the right.

“Prompto?”

A handsome smile accompanied by his usual small, sweet chuckle greets her. Always acts like he’s interacting with an old and dear friend...which she guesses they are somewhat. He too leans against the railing of the balcony that adjoins the boy’s room to hers. The moonlight hitting him just enough that she can witness the wear and tear there, the tug of exhaustion on his face. Something troubled him also yet he still manages a bright smile for her. He’s in his usual attire, save for the leather jacket. She ponders just how long he’s been standing there observing her. Was she so caught up in her mind that she didn’t even notice him? Did she unknowingly intrude on him? Did he notice her from his window?

“You got an excuse ready?” He asks tilting his head with a sly, fox-like grin. Norah raises her brow confused until he gives a smug smile and continues “Better have one when Iggy scolds you for getting up late tomorrow,” Her blood curdles all of a sudden.

“Excuse? Ignis might be your mother blondie, but he can think again if he believes I’m ever going to subject myself to such a control freak's idiotic...” She snaps, the end of her reply dying in her throat with a quiet groan. Norah winces at her words like she’s gone and slapped herself across the face. Which at this point, she probably deserves. 

She might've blamed it on her tiredness, skulked back into her room and pretended Prompto hadn’t seen that. The mere mention of one of their names seems to be enough to make her combust like a damn firework, better Prompto not get burned in the process. But when she hears him chuckle it stops her in her tracks. His smile is still unwavering as he looks at her like she just cracked some cheesy joke.  
“Yikes, what did Iggy do this time? If it’s the snoring that’s keeping you up I promise you it’s not him. I’ve tried to ram a sock in Noctis’s mouth but Gladio doesn’t trust him to not choke on it or something,” He jests utterly unbothered at her outbreak. Norah looks up forcing a curt smile, but her chest still swells in guilt. 

She finds it sometimes annoying how relentlessly nice he is. Irrefutably polite and joyous to her when she’s hardly warranted it. As if her outbursts are small, minor things. Like the stuff she spouts doesn’t hurt. While Norah wasn’t badmouthing Prompto; you say one bad thing about anyone in Noctis’s company then you’re saying something bad about all of them. Each abuse is personal to all of them. All three were protective over Noctis but they were equally protective over each other. 

Sometimes that loyalty makes her green with envy, four men from drastically different backgrounds able to coexist as seamlessly as they do. Gladiolus and Ignis make her feel like an outsider, that she is intruding on something special, like her chair in this inner circle was stolen. If it wasn’t for the joint effort of Noctis and Prompto she probably would have left in the middle of the night. He’s patient and understands her words aren’t uttered with any conviction but rather impulse instead. Prompto treats her like he had when they were kids, only with added confidence and emphasis. It’s as though they are kids once again sometimes, two bubbling children during more simple times. It makes her reminisce of more innocent times and it’s a nice gesture to make her feel welcome. Furthermore, the special treatment he gives her greatly stands against the ones she gets from the other two, and she appreciates it. 

But she was taught manners...somewhat. Manners are deserving to those who warrant it, and Prompto gives her this when she’s been...well, a complete bitch.

“Ignore me. Rough night,” She mumbles.  
“Complicated right?” He deduces and she nods grateful he’s not one to inquire further.  
“Probably heard this anecdote a million times, so please don’t hit me when I repeat it. But I hear going for a walk does wonders for complicated individuals like us,” Prompto says nodding his head towards the city, a look of appeal flashes across his face.  
“You’re right, I have heard that one. About a billion times actually,” she retorts teasingly folding her arms. “You sound like one of my old teachers,”  
“Ever tried it?”  
“I prefer hitting things, in case you haven’t noticed,”  
“Oh, believe me, I’ve noticed,” He smirks and she quirks her brow at the suggestive tone he purrs. Feels herself instinctively looking him up and down, dragging her eyes slowly to counter it.  
“As in...I-I uh; noticed how good you are at hitting things,” He quickly remedies avoiding her gaze.  
“Uh huh,”  
“Oh come on!” He groans, shyly holding his hand up to his eyes, hiding his reddening cheeks that encourages Norah's first laugh of the night out of her. He quickly looks up proudly when she does, as though he’s perfected a piece of art.  
"There you go," He exalted triumphantly. "Already forgotten. I'm good at that, taking people's minds off of things,"  
"Is laughter your only means of making people forget their troubles?" She asks grinning.  
"Depends how much I like the person," He says tenderly as she laughs some more, attempting to stop the giggles by slapping a hand over her mouth. Instead, her laugh melds against his own as he watches adoringly; Norah unsuccessfully stifles her laughter alongside him until they both hear a sudden bang on the door behind Prompto. Gladiolus stands at the glass shaking his head. Unkempt hair springing from his scalp as he yawns before sluggishly sauntering away, a grimace on his tired features.

"He's just jealous he's not the one doing the harmless flirting for once," Prompto chirps.  
"Harmless? Is that what this is? Breaking my heart over here,"  
"What can I say Norah, I’m a dangerous fellow, I just can’t be tied down!" He wiggles a brow and she cackles cringing.  
“But if you wanted a little danger…-”  
“Stop being funny, what will the others think if they see me smiling?” She retorts rubbing the back of her neck. “Got a reputation to uphold blondie,” Norah averts her eyes; now very suddenly aware that the others could hear them. Catching her startled look he bobs in front of the window she glares at worriedly, drawing her attention away from his room.  
“Norah, you might think otherwise. But you’re allowed to have fun sometimes,” He states like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. And she’s almost convinced he’s right...almost.

"If you say so,"  
“I do say so,”

Silence ensues as they smile at each other, she swears her cheeks will pop off if he keeps this up. He looks at her like he’s got her all figured out; he hasn’t but the confidence almost makes her wish he did. The nightmares already fade into obscurity just with him being here.

“We could go for a walk? If you're worried about waking Noctis up,” He asks hopefully, directly asking what she suspects he had been alluding to this whole time. Norah feels a wave of fear bubble somewhere deep inside of her, an electrifying spark that nearly pushes a stern ‘no’ out of her mouth. It sends shockwaves to her limbs, demanding they spring to action and hastily carry her into the safety of her room.

It wasn’t danger she was afraid of, more of being alone with him. She’s not charming, not in the slightest. If she isn’t trying to intimidate people or bribe someone her charm falls rather flat. What he was proposing was harmless of course, but she worried she might come across as boring or bored of him, which couldn’t be farther from the truth.

He spots it flash across her face; that sudden spark of regret and repulsion. He’s about to let her have her out, her exit. He goes to raise his hand and bid her goodnight with a heavy heart until she pats him on the shoulder.  
“Drinks, and I’ll go anywhere with you,” She calls out to him. Prompto beams from ear to ear, a hand to his heart emphatically as he bows.  
“M’lady,”

Gladio woke up Ignis and they briskly accompanied the two once Prompto explained the plan, much to the blonde's dismay and Norah’s irritance. Gladio ensured he stood between them as they made their way to find the nearest bar to which Norah felt exceedingly uncomfortable being caught between Ignis and Gladiolus. Trying his best to not seem pissed, Prompto cracked jokes while Ignis dodged unbalanced drunks and muttered a series of complaints under his breath. Regretting letting himself get pulled in whatever antics Gladiolus had planned...

The streets spilled with overbearing music, with the bars competing for who had the loudest speakers. As if it was the rock-pop music that ushered customers into their leather booths. When the group wandered long enough they finally settled for the 'Sandgoose'. A small open square adorned in exotic plants and fancy tiles greeted them. Rickety metal chairs were strewn about, allowing a clear view of the night sky should one look up. Prompto wondered if it was designed so customers would keep getting up to grab drinks from the bar so that they wouldn't have to sit down on the awful chairs. And also if the purpose of being able to see the sky was so anyone who passed out here would awaken and get out of the bar when the sun came to say hello. 

All their noses crinkle when the overabundant smell of drinks and men's deodorant assaulted their noses. Like a barrage of tumultuous stenches.

"That's the odour of desperate men. I would advise you to stay close Norah," Ignis sighed as he took out a cloth and wiped their dirty table.  
"Say, ain't that the stuff you use Prompto?" Gladiolus nudged the blonde beaming proudly.  
"Funny Gladio,"  
"Can we just get the drinks?" Norah grunted.

As soon as their drinks arrived any tension had quickly dissolved. Their friendly chatter and laughter emptied into their bottles with even Ignis being generous of his intake of alcohol, his slurred speech and more friendly exposition is a welcome sight and Norah finds herself preferring drunk Ignis's company to the sober one.  
"The King's advisor everyone!" She toasts, making Ignis burn red when she garners the attention of other patrons. Who look on with grand smiles.

"The King...always was aware I'd one day call him by that title. I just didn't anticipate it to be so soon," Ignis says staring blankly into his glass, ignoring her condescending tone.  
"Same here. King Noctis..." Prompto sighs sadly, holding his bottle tighter. The title still doesn’t roll off his tongue all that well, it’s the same for all of them. Like they’re calling their friend by a different name. The title sounds weighty rolling off the tongue even when they use it jokingly. Prompto hates the way Noctis practically scowls whenever he hears it.  
"Also didn’t anticipate that we’d ever have a princess in our midst," Gladio points out, raising his glass to Norah who rolls her eyes. Feeling a lump form in her throat at the word.  
"I hate it when you call me that," She grumbles.  
"Princess Norah Lucis Caelum, it's got a nice ring to it no?" Prompto lies trying to make her feel better, muttering the title over and over again under his breath as if it would roll off his tongue any better than ‘King Noctis’. It had the opposite effect, in fact him saying the full title made her grimace and practically flinch.  
"No, it doesn't," She disagrees frowning. He looks over to her, face bearing resemblance to Noctis whenever Regis would subject him to a ‘one day you’ll rule these lands’ spiel. The disdain for her own bloodline prevalent on her frown. To try and remedy it he nudges his unopened beer her way. Norah gladly takes it with a small smile.

"Tell me," Gladio hums as he leans closer to Norah and there is a sudden shift in the air. Before he continues he searches for something in her eyes, hovering an intense glance that makes her nervous. "Have you ever fancied the crown?"  
"Gladiolus!" Ignis hisses.  
"What? It isn’t like she's ever going to have it! It's just an innocent question," he defends.  
"You think I sat in some hovel pining for the crown?" Norah inquires scrunching her nose as though she smelled something stale. "Poor little discarded princess Norah?"  
"It isn't like that. You knew who you were, where you were born. Yet you've been all over the place as a merc; with everyone thinking you were just some random hunter. A nobody doing jobs for Gil. When in fact you were actually in line for the throne of Lucis. You never thought you were 'destined for greater things'? Never got angry when someone bad mouthed ‘the princess’?" Gladio goes on and his face turns incredibly serious, his drunken and almost sluggish half-grin is replaced by a stoic, analytical expression; makes her uneasy under the intensensity of it. He’s so near she can clearly see the dark brown that fills his eyes and she feels trapped...caught in the act but the act of what she isn’t sure.  
"I was never in line for the throne," She points out cringing even more, she takes a sip of her beer looking elsewhere hoping the conversation would stop right there. Of course it didn’t...

"That's not an answer,"  
"Why don't you shine a light in my eye Gladio!" She stormed and in an impulsive move she slammed the beer bottle against the table with a loud bang.

The silence stretches at the crash; Gladiolus's eyes remain unwavering and she feels herself starting to get hotter and hotter under the collar. He still searches her face for something and Norah glares back. Itching to punch him, desperate to not give up whatever the hell he’s looking for in her eyes. Gladiolus makes her feel backed into a corner yet her predator is shrouded in shadows. She worries what brought this on, or if they’ve sussed something out and merely want her to come out and say it. It’s probably an act, all bark and no bite; there’s no way in hell they know...they simply cannot be aware. He wants to trip her up, her aggression with the beer bottle probably tipped him off about something...he grins smugly and looks her up and down with a proud glint in his eye.

"Hey, we're just talking, right? Two buddies sharing a glass," He suddenly chuckles reclining back into his chair, relieving her of his gnawing glare but she isn’t over it. His now relaxed demeanour makes her all the more suspicious, more on edge like he’s found what he was looking for.  
"We could always ‘talk’ in private big guy. This kind of adult talk might be too mature to handle in public,” She seethes.  
“Private huh? Gonna take me along on those midnight strolls you gallivant on every Saturday?” He asks and she turns pale.

“Both of you! enough!” Ignis rumbles, his arms stretch outwards so either hands sits in front of the two along the table, ready to jump should they suddenly lunge at each other.  
“Before you invited yourself, these two just wanted to drink in peace! I suggest we align ourselves with that plan Gladiolus,” He asides angrily the bigger man, who’s teeth grind in his locked jaw.  
“And I advise her majesty to handle her agressions,” He adds only serving to make her angrier.  
“Stop saying that!”  
“Look at her. Her Majesty has hardly acted royally since she got here,” Gladio scoffs with much disdain.  
“And how am I supposed to act?!”  
“You’re not interested in being here, yet here you are.” He spits. “Ignis was right, even if we forget about you disappearing every Saturday it’s fucking suspicious. I honestly without a single damn doubt in my head think that you want to to hurt Noctis, I think you’re more than capable of doing something, and I am prepared to-”  
“So I am being interrogated!” The chair under her is kicked back, scraping loudly against the tiles. She’s outraged, fists bawled at either side as the fury boils and builds up. Completely appalled that they used this moment to lure her into some trap. Gladiolus must have convinced himself that the drink would trip her up, have her spill some sort of secret. All of their animosity towards each other had been buried under sharp glances and typical banter, she should have known tensions were rising and that eventually one of them was going to implode. She just hates that it’s in front of Prompto, and she hates how quiet Ignis is being...

“Yeah you are,” Prompto cuts in, standing up. His apparent silence had rendered him forgotten in the heat of the argument and the other three blink as if they had just realized he was there; he watched with widened eyes and racing palpitations. Now as his own chair skids across the floor with a screech; all eyes landing on him. His usual smile contorted into a grimace, looking upon his friends in rare disgust.  
“If I’d have known you just wanted to loosen Norah up so you could play detective I wouldn’t have been so passive with you inviting yourself,” He begins. Voice calm but the breaking point of his patience clearly spectacled on his scowl.  
“Prompto,”  
“Shut up for a damn second!” He snaps. The ferocity in his voice shocks everyone at the table, even garnering the attention of a few observing patrons. He had held himself back for fear of getting involved or saying the wrong thing, but the hurled abuse from Gladiolus proved to be too much. He felt as though they were ganging up on her. That they had manipulated him in order to get to her. Gladiolus looked on offended and visibly daunted, serving as more fuel to Prompto’s fire.

“Noctis and Norah haven’t seen each other in ten years! Can you imagine that? How the hell would you be Gladio if you and Iris were torn apart for that long?!” He shouts his muscles tensing. “You two haven’t seen her since she was ten! She’s twenty now and all you’ve done since we met her is treat her like crap!”  
“This isn’t-”  
“Man, I thought me and Noct were bad with the dumb conspiracies! You’re really giving her shit because she wants to be with her family?! It’s that kind of shitty behaviour that got Norah kicked out Insomnia in the first place!”  
“Prompto, I know you and Norah have this cute little thing where you have known each other since you were kids. But me and Ignis also knew her, and ten years being absent renders her a stranger. Don’t act like you’ve got her all figured out. You’ve probably only figured out the parts she wants you to figure out,”  
“Gods is everything so black and white with you? I’m not some comic book villain! Why else would I entertain your bullshit if it weren’t because I wanted to be with Noctis?!” Norah yells.  
“I don’t know you tell me princess,” Gladiolus responds as he too kicks the chair out from under him. Sending the furniture toppling over. He wavers slightly, hobbling on his feet from all the alcohol. When someone is angry and under the influence, their features get stretched and more pronounced, like a surreal drawing. Gladiolus brows knotted so tightly they hooded his eyes making them appear darker and more sinister, his mouth pulled into a malice filled gloom and for a moment Prompto expects him to lunge at them. He’s like a bull kicking and rearing for the charge and he finds himself inching closer to Norah, getting in front of her.  
“She’s here for Noctis. You’ve only got the balls to start this shit because he’s back at the hotel sleeping,” He grumbles.

With two against one hitting him with dirty looks, Gladiolus’s might falters and he slinks back into a drunken exhaustion. Shooting one last looks at Norah, a defeated smile tugs at his mouth before he chuckles darkly  
“Really got em wrapped round your finger,”  
“Gladio, sober up man,” Prompto finished before he tugs at Norah’s arm for them to depart. She follows suit not before raising a middle finger to her bully.

He feels like a teenager again, through the blissful haze of the alcohol there is euphoria in the freeing carelessness he feels. The weight of his worries and terrors flee his body like air from a balloon. Now it’s like he’s walking on air.  
He’s got his arm around her as they sing some sort of incoherent ballad, roaring into the night while struggling for balance on an aimless journey through Lestallum. They must be quite the sight, the remaining crowds still on the walkways turn their heads towards the two morons howling from the bottom of their lungs. Neither of them care though, and neither really notice the attention they're pulling anyway. He likes this look on her; it's a welcome sight from how she was back at the bar and despite how his legs wobble and despite the blur that licks his sight Prompto focuses on how exceptionally warm she is against him, like he’s hugging the sun itself. Their laughter fills the air bringing life back into their night, their slurred words a melody only to their own ears.

She’s always so serious, and he can’t blame her for being on edge after that performance from Gladio. He looks down at Norah...as a person she’s unrecognisable from the girl he knew all those years ago in Insomnia. But she still retains that beauty he’s found the Caelums often possess. Ebony hair weaving seamlessly through grey; not a single strand out of place. Pale skin at the mercy of the redness the drink brings. Her long lashes flutter against her radiant smile, the smile that made his heart thump ever harder. She’s always been pretty, her bloodline almost certifies it. But in the heat of the moment, seeing her in her element without a care in the world heightened her appeal, and he couldn’t pry his eyes away. Even if he wanted to he doubted he could ever could. It was as though she smiled like sunlight on sea rocks after summer rain, and he wanted to make sure no one not even Gladiolus or Ignis could take that away from her, help her forget they made her feel that way.

Prompto had known her as a prankster in his youth, how mischief used to sparkle in her eyes. Now she’s all gloom and doom, her eyes now as cold as steel. Never without a bleak expression, it was etched into her like she was made of stone. The world’s beatings and tough lessons were evident on her, exemplified in her sullen and cynical view of the world. She shrugged all of that off in this moment, like she had been born again or had gone back in time to when things were simpler. When she used to light up that empty building he used to call home, make even the most unloving of homes brim with warmth with her jokes and her giggles. It makes him happy seeing her that way.

“Something on my face?” She questions looking up at him. Prompto can’t find the words to answer her. In his drunken state the words simply fade. His blurred logic can’t correctly articulate the precise way to convey how he feels, and it’s nearly funny how she doesn’t understand just how complicated the answer to that question is. Whatever he could come up with wouldn’t do her justice. So he just shakes his head, hoping that will be satisfactory for now.

“Hey,” She whispers. Turning to gaze at her she looks up at him with a hesitant expression.  
“Thanks. What you did back there it was…” She trails off. In the short time that he’s known older Norah he’s noticed the facade she veils herself with. Of course he can clock it, he’s a marvel at cluttering his emotions down deep too. He smiles through the pain that he crams in his chest, she prefers to act tough but it’s all the same ploy. Not everyone can rant about their feelings, you can’t go through the world bawling like a baby right?  
Prompto understands he could never come out with his truth. But there is something gratifying about being able to be there for her. Some purpose in being her shoulder to cry on, after ten years of isolation he wants to remind her that people care for her. That she’s worthy of being cared about.

“You can tell me,” He reassures.  
“No one does that for me,” She finally says, taking a deep breath as if she had been holding it for the longest time. “I don’t...I didn’t have people to rely on before. So I um, I appreciate it Prompto,”  
“The guys were out of line,”  
“Maybe...Am I crazy for being a little relieved?” she wearily chuckles rubbing at her neck. He tilts his head, quirking a brow.  
“Y-You’re relieved?”  
“That kind of doubt...it is healthy. Especially when you're guarding a King. And now I know how Gladio truly feels,” She explains.  
“In his defence, he was drunk,”  
“Drunk thoughts are sober thoughts,”

Prompto sighs, pinching his nose. He kind of agrees. What a night...everything happened so fast and he can’t even be sure if his silence was because of his surprise at Gladiolus’s behaviour or if he too needed some kind of confirmation. Ignis might have been silent but he believes it was only because Gladiolus was saying everything that was on his mind also. He just knows that when he heard Gladio’s last sentence...about hurting Noctis he quickly snapped.  
“I’m sorry,” She says.  
“Sorry? What do you have to be sorry for?” he does a double take shaking his head with a sympathetic smile. “You got nothing to be sorry for, like I said he was the one out of line,”  
“You’ve picked your side,” She groans.  
“There aren’t sides,” He argues.  
“Yes there are, ‘Team fuck Norah’ and ‘Team Norah’,”  
“Hah, can I change to the other team? That sounds more fun,”

Norah knits her brows together confused until the joke dawns on her. Once again laughter flies from her chest, and as she heaves against it her balance topples and she slips from his arms crashing into the wall before he can save her. The dull thud of her back hitting the brick only serves as more fuel to the fire and she cackles maniacally.

“Name something!” She urges him.  
“Name what?!”  
“Anything, think of something we should do right now,” She demands full of excitement.  
"Name something and we'll do it. Anything you want," Norah lolls her head against the wall pursing her lips. The light from the nearby streetlight catches her features just right. Prompto sees that old spark of mischief glint in her silvery-blue orbs. His heart starts thumping seismic terrors in his ribcage and his hands grow shaky. Swallowing the large lump in his throat, he eyes her curiously and cautiously. Like a flower he wants to pluck but is wary of the serpent lurking underneath. 

“Anything?” He says through a heavy breath. Something begins to stir in his chest, the tantalising feelings of excitement he’s had since she turned up in their lives again. Only now it’s stronger, out of control. His heart thrums like a prisoner banging on the bars to his cage, aching to break free. 

“Anything,” she purrs.

They are surrounded by deafening silence. He looks at her intently, primal. Giving her an out, giving her a chance to laugh it all off and continue walking down the street. Call it a night, wave him goodbye till the dawn and they pretend nothing happened. She doesn’t move, arches her brow as she awaits a response. And he gives it to her.

He inches slowly towards her, his eyelids sinking down gently as he presses her against the wall, with one hand against her cheek and the other planted firmly on her waist. He kisses her once, deeply and gets as close to her as he can forgetting the need for air. So close that he can taste the wine and the beer on her tongue, her lips lamented in the sweet liquor. The smell of her perfume embraces his senses, a cloud of her scent fogging every inch of him and deep down he hopes she put it on just for his benefit. He takes it all one with one intense kiss, he pours all of his hope into that one impulsive kiss. His hope that she feels as strongly as he does, that her heart swells like his. That he clouds her mind just as much as she clouds his. He hopes she knows just how shaky and numb he gets whenever she is hurt, whenever she’s downed in a battle; how his heart and his stomach trade places. How he marvels at her when she stands tall at the end of them, even through the grime and dirt that might cover her he stares on in pure awe. He floods his care for her into it, kisses her like he'll kiss away every bad thing that has ever happened to her.

With a shaky breath he pulls away, looking at her with hooded lids. Two widened eyes stare back at him shocked. And at that his heart drops to his stomach, plummets like a boulder into a dark canyon. He jumps away like she’s burned him raw. And he rubs at his face to be rid of his stupid love craze.

“Shit,” Prompto curses under his breath, pressing himself against the other side of the alley, opposite her. Pressing himself against it hard, trying to get away from her. Worried she’s disgusted, like I’ll infect her with something bad.

“That was...new,” She whispers, bringing her fingers to her lips.  
“Sorry, I-I...It’s just...I’m drunk man,” He quickly excuses, still not daring to look at her. Like he’ll turn to ash if her eyes bore into him like that again. His heart sends shockwaves through his system and he can’t think straight, can barely utter intelligible words. It’s like every nerve has been smouldered by the hot lava of his embarrassment, like he is a machine going haywire...  
“Yeah…,” She gulps.  
“It was a terrible idea,” He grumbles pinching his nose. He runs through every damn interaction with her, like he’s revisiting them from a different perspective, a much clearer one. The correct one he should have had all along. Every lingering touch, every flash of her beautiful smile. The times she trusted him enough to pour her heart out...was he really that delusional? How could I think that she would ever…?

“You’re...You’re fucking royalty and I’m just…” He rationalises. He thinks of the pure look of fucking dissapointment Ignis would give him right now if he saw that. Hell, he wouldn’t put it past the man to grab him by the ear and kick him to the curb. And Noctis? It’s his sister...and she's a princess...I'm just...barely even human.

“Yeah...it’s a bad idea, terrible. We’d be wise to just...head back to bed right? It wouldn’t...wouldn’t be wise….wouldn’t work out,” She stumbles clearing her throat.  
“You’re right Norah, shit...” He nods frantically. He can feel tears threaten to fall no matter how hard he chews the inside of his cheeks. He goes to walk ahead, to just try and put the whole ordeal far behind him, he wants to run. But when he can’t hear her footsteps follow he turns, half-expecting her to have run the other way, away from him. But she’s still there, eyes lingering on his form emotionless. He thinks he's done something else wrong, that's over stepped yet another line. It’s like she’s running a marathon inside her head until her eyes get wider and wider like she's been struck with some sort of heinous revelation about him. Like she’s seeing something more clear than she’s ever seen it before.

Just then She pushes herself from the wall, reaches out and takes a hold of his wrist hurriedly.

“Norah what-” He doesn't have time to get it out.

She pulls him into her, back against the wall. Swallows his gasp in her throat as she kisses him. Guiding his hand back to where she believes it belongs; firmly along her waist. She holds his hand there tightly and with another hand she cards it through his blonde locks, dragging her fingers through his scalp as she presses her mouth against his softly. Urging him to return the kiss, encouraging him to share this with her. And he does, his body loosens against her and he savours each and every inch of her sliding his hands up and down from her ribcage to her waist, carding his arm around her to bring her safely into his arms...

There’s not a sound save for their ragged breaths, the closed in walls shield them from the world, concealing them from their worries, their responsibilities and their lives. In this little intimate alleyway only the stars bear witness to this confession. Prompto closes his eyes and melts into her, melts into this feeling of her holding him close and tightly. Like he’ll float away if she dared to let go. It’s as if the world and existence as they know it faded into obscurity, and all he’ll ever truly know is the feeling she gives him. For all he’ll ever know to be wholefully, irrefutably and completely true is her. He feels...human. The kiss conveys a million thoughts, a million feelings. Conveys the pure love two people...two humans have for each other. Their lips profess long requited love, pushed deep down now bursting with life and possibility. He didn’t learn it then, and he should have. But feelings don’t stay buried, the tears you blink away don’t ever really leave. They collect like a bowl garners rainwater, building and building until it overflows. And his beaten down hopes that she could ever see him the same way overflow, charge out like the dam breaking and he can’t get enough of her. He traces his fingers against her cheek and she smiles against his lips. This is real, she is real and she makes me feel real and I’ll never know another love like this. I’ll never know someone like you again, you are all I could ever want. And for a moment, just a moment, he thinks he can pry himself away long enough to loosen the straps on his brace.

“This is a terrible idea,” She breaths brushing her nose against his lazily as she tilts her head to plant a kiss on his chin, his neck, his jaw, his chin again. 

“The worst,” He agrees, pushing her harder against the brick reaching for the back of her neck. Pushing that notion of revealing his wrist right down, no not now don’t ruin this don’t chase her away. Every doubt that she hates him, that she could never see him as anything other that Noctis’s best friend is chased away by the slow motion of her lips. The flood of terror and regret he had just felt moments ago are forgotten and drained. And all of her fears are brushed aside when he digs his fingers into her waist, grounding her to somewhere other than reality. She moves away to let him gasp for breath, but is soon met with a chasing kiss disregarding her concern. As he kisses her sloppily every gasp of air she’s breathing in the smell of alcohol; the smell of metal, smoke...sugar. It’s an odd mixture, but to her it’s a scent she wants bottled.

She moves away again, and with both of her hands she cradles his face forcing him to meet her eyes. “And yet I don’t care,” She whispers hotly mere inches away from his mouth. Her eyes return to their cold steel, to carry the sincerity of her words...her promise. Through a silent conversation she says I’ll never care what the world thinks, ever. Please...please believe me. Prompto isn’t sure he ever can, but right now...it’s enough.  
“Good thing I’m not the brains of the group,” He jokes, pressing his forehead against hers. 

At some point they begin to see the sun smother what little of the sky they can see from the alleyway. They head back to the hotel in haste, the heat of their kiss beginning to fade away. He’s certain she’s kissed him sober, and with it comes sober and terrifying thoughts. He worries this was but the drink talking, that all of that was just empty, pretty words. Norah senses his fear, sees him frown and bite his lip in distress. In response, she intertwined his fingers through hers, and looked at him adoringly.  
“Be honest, was this a mistake?” He has to ask, she must be sober too. He needs to see the look on her face when he asks the question.

She pauses, no visible regret so far at least.  
“I’m not…” Her response flutters away with a defeated sigh. Closing her eyes she searches for the right words, searching for the best way to convey her fears without giving up everything.

She likes him, more than she should. More than what is wise, yet she can’t pry herself away from him. He makes her feel things she never thought she could, ever deserve and the exhilaration of being so caught up in him makes her hesitant with her next words.  
“I’m not perfect Prompto,” She begins. “And...the more you get to know me, the more that’s going to become true,”

He quirks his brow and shakes his head in disagreement.  
“I look forward to it, to knowing you more,” He responds smiling but she doesn’t smile back. A pained look tugs her features, like he’s a child who can’t understand what death means.

“You shouldn’t,”  
“Norah, I’m not exactly perfect either….” He stops them in their tracks, forgetting about the others or the need to hurry back. He clenches his hand around hers smiling, expecting this to be some dark joke of hers, that she’ll go back to smiling any minute now.  
“Believe me. I’m all kinds of damaged too,”  
“Hmm, you know...someone once told me that damage finds damaged,” She says and Promtpo raises his eyebrows. Wondering if that maybe was the reason why he was drawn to her, why she, unlike any other woman he’s ever met, was drawn to him. Some sort of cosmic force relaying an unspoken understanding between individuals, a silent need to find another who you can confide in for they carry the same weight as you...could he ever confide in her? Was that ever going to be a possibility? He doesn’t like the idea of lying to her, but the very real chance of her hating him because of what he is is more terrifying than simply living a lie. And he has gotten good at it, lying…  
“Wise fellow, sounds like something a college girl would get tattooed on their wrist,”

“Ahaha, it’s true I think. He talks in circles but never without conviction, I believe him. Point is, I don’t think I could shake you even if I tried Prompto,” And with that, she rests a hand on his neck and pulls him in for another light kiss, and with that feather light peck Prompto knows the following days are going to look brighter with her...


End file.
